


Paradise Salts

by Septembre_Rain (Zyrielle)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crack, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Sorry, Salt anyone, copious amounts of cussing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-07 23:06:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18883081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zyrielle/pseuds/Septembre_Rain
Summary: Eos dumps the whole prophecy into the bin and everyone gets a second chance.The Saltiest man on Eos lands in the saltiest place in Eos. He's not the only salty one there apparently.Saltiness ensues-and massive amounts of cussing.There is no good explanation for this okay. It's crack.





	1. Paradise Salts

 

Ardyn took a deep breath. This was good for him .

His toes dug into the warm sand, the sun-oh bless the sun, shone hotly, baking his back, and the wind blew warm and balmy on his face. Purple-auburn strands of hair flew to his face and he sputters, spitting the strands that entered his mouth.

It was a lovely day really, the very definition of a perfect day in paradise. The skies were clear, sun shining, wind blowing, trees swaying, birds singing, turquoise waters crashing on the salt crusted shores. P e r f e c t.

Ardyn hated it. He was the saltiest man in existence on the saltiest place in the universe. He came to find answers and maybe reprieve but the place only seemed to feed more of his saltiness. He supposed he would have loved it here, were he anyone else but himself. Oh he enjoyed the peace and total obliteration of the scourge and daemons as much as everyone else. It was a good thing. Really it was. The thing they all wanted since 2000 years ago had finally happened.

What he hadn't counted on was to continue living. At the very moment he expected to die, the Goddess Eos herself came and slapped the shit out of Bahamut. After reducing the Dracoinian to a literal heap of shit she turned to him and said,

"Ardyn." He gulps. Her eyes had suddenly gone soft, as if she hadn't just smacked down another Astral just moments ago.

"You deserve so much better my son." Hells yeah he did.

"The Astrals have done you so much injustice." He doesn't comment when she grinds her foot on Bahamut's sacred jewels.

"And so I grant you one last gift." Ardyn releases a breath he didn't know he was holding. Finally he can rest. He closes his eyes to accept the inevitable.

"Another chance at life, to live it to the fullest-" Wait. WHAT.

"May you know peace and love-"

"Hold it right there." Holy Mother of misplaced goodwill smite him down now. This was not how things were supposed to end.

"I'm supposed to-"

"Yes I know how Bahamut's prophecy plays out." Good. Then she should-

"But because it is utter bullshit I am ignoring it and we are doing things my way." Did the Great Goddess just cuss?

"But-but- Noct and all these years. Two thousand-"

"Yes I know what happened dear Ardyn." His name rolled from her tongue, sweet and honey thick from her lips. He didn't like it.

"All that what was all of it for? Would it all have been for naught?" This can't be happening.

"You aren't the only one who gets another chance my dear. It is the least I can do to make up for the mess He created." Ardyn supposes 'He' would be the broken heap bleeding light by her feet.

"Then everyone-all those lives-"

"Do not concern yourself with the rest my son. All is forgiven. Just take my gift-"

"I don't want it." Hell if she won't give him death, he'll piss her off enough to kill him.

"Take my gift and live your days in happiness and peace as you were supposed to." She continues as if though she hadn't heard him. There was however, a minor twitch on her eyebrow and a smirk on her face.

She then turns to Noctis, who was watching the exchange quietly, the fucker. He should be helping him die.

Before he can say anything else, he begins fading into light.

"No-"

Both the Goddess and King of Light watch him, a serene look on her face, and a pensive but hopeful on his. Who knew or cared what Noct was thinking anyways, he often looked constipated and hid behind his bangs. But Noct was in a magical coma for the past ten years and lost so many people-some by his hand, so of course he would want this. Damnit.

Ardyn's lips moved but nothing came out. And just like that, he was gone.

Ardyn came to under their tree, or what's left of it. Dried branches stretched out, seemingly dead but little tufts of green were peeking out from the tips. New leaves. The shrubs and grass around him however, flourished. Nourished by sun and rain no doubt. That means-What date is it? How long was he gone? There was no one around to ask.

The sun shone brightly over him, he raises an arm to block it out. It doesn't burn. He feels hot but it is a different kind of heat. The type of pleasant heat he felt before the scourge infected him. Back when he would lay out on these fields with…

What was he to do now? Where would he go? The Goddess was apparently serious, but was the Goddess sane?

Ugh. Thinking hurt.

A pamphlet flew to his chest. It was bright and blue.

'Come to Paradise.

Paradise Salts now open.

Units available for purchase or daily/weekly/monthly rent.

Visit us now for your own piece of Paradise on Eos.'

Hmn. Bold claims. It wasn't too far from here. It was as good a place to start as any. He gets up and walks.

The people in town are friendly. No one seems to know him, which was all for the best.

Time had been good to this place, it was in the latter stages of recovering from the age of darkness. That would mean much time must have passed since he should have died. No wonder.

He enters the Paradise Salts lobby. Instincts driving him here. The young receptionist squeaks as she sees him. Ah finally, someone who recognizes him. The screaming and authorities should be called soon, and he would-

Another person, a tall young bellboy grabs his hands and pulls him into a brief but tight hug.

"We were so worried about you Mr. Izunia! They found your car empty-you were missing for days!"

Ardyn stills. What was happening?

"You seem alright. Does anything hurt? Do you need to go to the hospital? You look well for a missing person but-" The receptionist babbles on.

"You know who I am?"

"Of course sir. Your car has been restored and your villa kept clean. Have you lost your keys? What am I saying, you always lose them. We always keep a spare for you-"

"Would you be so kind as to lead me to it please? My place I mean. I am quite tired and my mind a bit…foggy." What the fuck was happening?

"Why of course! Would you like me to call a doctor? We have-"

"No thank you. I just want to rest really."

"Alright, this way then."

…

And so here he was. Apparently this 'Ardyn Izunia' he owned a villa and had been staying there for a few months before he woke up as 'the REAL Ardyn'.

Eos was doing great, Lucis, Tenebrae and Niflheim were allies now, and Insomnia was fine (not that he checked really).

Old Ardyn was a boring guy but he was a loaded boring guy so at least he had resources at his disposal. Paradise Salts was a fairly new real estate and set up on the edges of the Dead Sea. Tourism was great and the place boasted amazing skin care products.

Now, the dead sea is very new. Legend says the Goddess Eos cried as the dawn returned and she was revived. Her love, forgiveness, and tears flowed out of her and pooled and viola, the saltiest sea known to mankind was born.

Ardyn had once in a drunken stupor waded out to the waters late at night, thinking to drown himself, but alas, the water was too salty and wouldn't let him die either.

Is this what forgiveness was? It sucked. Then he drank a mouthful of the water, maybe a taste of this 'forgiveness' was what he needed. Or maybe he'd die of poisoning if he was lucky. It tasted like ass. If the Goddess tears made this sea, then Bahamut or Ifrit definitely peed in it too, and probably the hundreds of people who bathed in it. He promptly threw up right after. Gross. There were other less nasty things to poison himself with thank you very much.

He sighs, soaked and drunk and nearly passed out on the salt crusted beach. Maybe he should try taking on a positive approach at this.

And so here he was, the next day, hangover pounding his alcohol pickled brain. He said he'd give it a shot and so far he was hating every second of it. He was in flip flops, a loose white button down and khaki shorts. Past Ardyn dressed sensibly, real Ardyn covered up and avoided the sun for scourge-related reasons. But he had no reason to hide from the sun anymore. Except his hangover maybe, and sunburn. Man this heat sucked.

Paradise his ass. Forgiveness can go choke on a bag of dicks.

The beach had its chance, all ten minutes of it.

Covered in sweat, cursing the gods (yes all of them), he turns around, resolving to spend the rest of the day hidden in his sweet, and cool villa, to indulge in more expensive spirits and sleep the day away.

He grumpily stomps back, keeping his eyes down, away from the glare of the sun.

Someone stops a few feet ahead of him, blocking his way. Ardyn doesn't bother to look up.

"Excuse me-"

"Hello Ardyn."

That voice.

Ardyn looks up.

No Fucking way.

What was he doing here?

Did he know? Why hadn't this person killed him yet?

"You okay there, pal?"

Was he friends with the old Ardyn?

No fucking way.

Maybe he'd finally kill him if he found out.Or he could kill Noctis for not making or letting him die.

 

How poetic was it though that they would meet again on a beach, just like the first time.

"Why yes, I' quite alright. Just surprised to see you here Noctis." Well. No use hiding it.

The expression on his 'friend's' face changes. It goes from an open smile (obviously fake), to a sly smirk.

"I see you've returned. Welcome back, ARDYN."

Paradise indeed.

 

 

 


	2. Salt in a Can

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing the second member of the SALTrinity.

 

“I’m in love with someone~

Who doesn’t know I exist~”

 

“Shut the fuck up, fuckface. If he doesn’t know you exist, it’s probably because you’re a loser and it’s your fault that you suck and can’t make yourself known or memorable enough.”

 

The girl stops singing and stares at him wide eyed. Her eyes fill with tears.

 

“Ah shit, fuck. Listen, I’m sorry-well, not really, but I’m also probably right-“

 

Slap.

 

“Screw you mister.”

 

She stomps away.

 

Loqi places a hand on his sore cheek.

 

Pfft. If that was how she reacted whenever someone shot her with the truth, then she better be prepared to be single for a veeery long time.

 

Gods he hated that song. He wasn’t in love-no. It exactly as he said. He was not in love with Cor. The man was just a literal hack who only had his so called -‘Immortality’, a skinny ass sword, and was also a dumbass who didn’t know he had a rival in the Nif army, aka Loqi Tummelt. He was the youngest brigadier general, even in a higher rank than Cor was in his age! That made Loqi better than his Lucian counterpart already.

 

He walks down the sand, contemplating the things that brought him here, his decisions and motivations, and the things that happened in the recent past and old past. Damn this so-called-one-sided-rivalry.

 

Yeah Loqi lost time and time again at each face off, but that was because that stupid Prince was there. Cor was an old geezer who had years of experience on him, but magical princes had no place joining in on their battles. That was cheating! Stupid Lucians have no honor.

 

It was simply rude of him really, that Cor, to ignore Loqi’s existence and for Noctis to barge in on their fights.

 

But the war was over now and they were at peace. There was no more need to fight. That also meant there were no more chances to challenge the Immortal. Fuck. That had to be the worst part of this peace. Not to mention that when the dawn came, the clock turned back on them ten years, so Loqi was once again a twenty year old who looked fourteen, instead of the thirty year old bearded hunk he had grown into. (Self proclaimed, of course.)

 

They all got the dream from the Great Goddess. She was giving them all another shot at reliving life, the one before the endless night.

 

Yes, yes, people were revived and loved ones were restored, but the world was still in ruins. This would serve as a reminder to the people what war based on greed would result in. As such, Aldercapt, who was also very much alive, was stripped of his title, and kept under house arrest. Verstael was thrown into jail, his clones were undergoing a rehab program to humanize them again. The Niflheim army was dismantled, all of the empire’s resources were set to helping its citizens and rebuilding its cities. Ravus returned to Tenebrae with the Oracle, both dead set on fixing their ruined relationship, Fenestala Manor, and restoring the homes of their people. It was all good, except for Loqi.

 

His was a military family and with nothing to do, his parents decided that they were once again in love and went on a second honeymoon. Disgusting. And so he left.

 

Loqi had never been around Lucis, so that seemed like the only logical thing to do. The trade and travel industry had been booming as of late. People who had ten years of their life back were travelling, relocating and doing things they never thought they’d get the chance to do.

 

Of course travel and possibly learning more about Lucis was the only reason Loqi went to this side of Eos. It was totally not for the offhanded chance he might face Cor again, despite what Aranea said while laughing her head off and ruffling his hair.Damnit he was shorter than her once again.

 

She shoved a pamphlet into his hands, when he said he didn’t know what he’d do in Lucis.

 

“What’s this? The great Commodore now running ads and pamphlets for money? Didn’t know you were-OW!”

 

“Shut it blond shrimp. I know the person-“

 

“Of course you do-Ow that hurts, will you stop!”

 

“Interrupt or insult me one more time Loqi, and my lance will re-acquaint itself with your crotch and you’ll be known as Loqi the eunuch.”

 

“I’m sorry.” He squeaks.

 

She snorts. It was cute, in a disgustingly endearing kind of way. He decided he was gonna miss her. He was gonna miss her anyways but at least now that he decided it, he would still be in control of the situation, and it decidedly meant that she did not hold any power or influence over him. Hah. Bitch.

 

“So the owner of the place called in a favor, and since I’m in the business of ‘transportation’, I’m to spread word of her place to anyone who’s looking.”

 

“Paradise Salts? What kind of a name is that?” Loqi scoffs.

 

“It’s a nice place really, quiet, warm, unlike this frozen shithole. You’ll like it.”

 

“Hmn. If you say so.”

 

...

 

Of course Loqi’s first stop in Lucis would be Insomnia. _He might get a chance to see and finally challenge Cor_! It was imperative to know after all, if the Lucian stronghold would be a threat once again.

 

The half of the city was still in ruins but was halfway to being rebuilt. He was surprised there were so many people of all races helping each other out. Huh. War does have a way of making people put their differences aside.

 

He takes a room at a swanky hotel. He would take only the best of what Lucis had to offer. He did after all, have an image to maintain (as if).

 

Unable to keep still, he joined the first guided tour around Insomnia. The final stop was a tour at the grounds of the Citadel. Loqi scoffed. Were the Lucians so lax in their security measures? Fools.

 _Now if he could just find his nemesis_.

 

Insomnia wasn’t too bad. The street food was pedestrian but passable at best. The most interesting cuisine would be Galahdian skewers, although he did choke on the spice.

 

He took a few pictures, just because. Not that he had anyone to show them to, maybe Aranea if she asked. Maybe his old boss Ravus, they were on rather friendly terms-if only because they were there to witness each other’s mental breakdowns in the previous war and indulged in a bottle or two of very alcoholic drinks afterwards. Nowadays they kept tabs on each other, Ravus mostly checked with him to make sure that Niflheim would not rise again to terrorize the planet. Other than Aranea and Ravus, his parents maybe?

 

Who was he kidding? He was the least of his parents’ concerns right now. Ew. He wouldn’t be surprised if he would be getting a brother or sister by the end of the year. No, Loqi did not need friends. The war had made sure of that. It was ingrained in him that all that mattered was victories and, well defeating your rivals. But the finally, they were at the last stop.

 

The Citadel was beautiful. Even though one of the towers had a gaping hole in it, everything else seemed freshly repaired. They were brought into the receiving area, a large marble court just outside the main buildings. He studied the black, silver and gold pattern on the flooring. How pretentious.

 

The last part of the tour had a surprise. The king stepped out and said a few words. He welcomed and thanked them for coming to Insomnia and wished them app a pleasant stay. Right beside him, on his left, was his Shield, and on his right-oh gods. Could it be? Oh yes, it certainly was. The one and only, Cor Leonis, ‘The Immortal’. Of course they were up on a dais, and they were way out of reach. The tour guide asked it it was possible to take pictures and shake hands with the king. The reigning monarch smiles brightly, and if he were a puppy, his tail would be wagging. He looks to his left, at the constipated-looking shield who nods begrudgingly, then to his right, at the deadpan Immortal who just shrugs. More Crownsguard gather in the courtyard, and Glaives take their places on the stairs and the dais as the king descends.

 

Loqi can feel his fingers twitch in anticipation. As the group crowds about the king fawning, taking pictures, shaking his hands, giving him gifts and trinkets, the former brigadier general makes a beeline for Cor. He stands firmly in front of the, stoic, tall man, bracing himself. He puffs his chest, mind racing to form the words to challenge his rival in a duel. Cor, in permanent deadpan just looks back at him head on, although looking down might be a more accurate word since the man was impossibly tall and Loqi was reduced to a twenty year old shrimp.

 

“Regis. Regis look.” The shield discreetly elbows the king’s ribs, trying to get his attention.

 

“Oh my Gods.” Regis tries and fails to hide a chuckle behind the back of his palm.

 

Loqi of course doesn’t notice this as he is solely focused on Cor.

 

They both speak at the same time.

 

“I challe-“

 

“Listen kid. I don’t do autographs or photos. So here. Take this instead.”

 

Cor grabs his hand and puts something small and hard in it.

 

Loqi looks at it like it might burst into flame. It was a keychain of a miniature Cor wearing his trademark deadpan face.

 

“Autographs?” Loqi parrots back, lost.

_What the fuck?_

“You’re terrible Marshal. At least let the kid have a photograph.” A Glaive with a mohawk and braids butts in. “Gimme your phone kid.”

 

His phone is conveniently in his left, dominant hand. The Cor-chain is in his right. The man takes it, and Cor rolls his eyes.

 

“You know the drill Marshal. We practiced this. Say ‘cheese’.”

_What the flaming flying fuck?_

Click.

 

The man chokes back a laugh as he looks at the screen. “Oh Ramuh’s left testicle Cor we talked about this. Deadpan is not a photo-appropriate face. You too kid. Look alive.”

 

Someone presses into Loqi’s right side and Cor squeezes into his left. He feels pressure on his back and realizes that the King is leaning into one side, Cor on the other, and the Shield is behind him, holding them all together in an awkward hug.

 

Click.

 

“Oh that’s much better. One more!”

 

The glaive turns the camera around and includes himself in the photo with a selfie shot.

 

“Good one Nyx. Send me a copy of those, will you?” The king says as he puts an arm around Loqi, giving him a gentle squeeze. Before he lets go however, he says softly, “Thank you General.” Then he turns around and heads back up the stairs, back to the Citadel doors. The shield simply nods a salute at him in farewell, and Cor, well... Cor just awkwardly pats his head and says,”Take care kid.”

 

Something in Loqi dies. This was not how things were supposed to go. He was supposed to face off the immortal once and for all and he would finally be able to put this rivalry to rest. He could feel is face flush in anger.

 

“Whoa kid, you alright there?” The Glaive, Nyx was it? Hands him his phone back. “I sent myself a copy of the photos, I hope you don’t mind.”

 

Loqi wasn’t paying attention. “He didn’t even recognize me. Even the king knew who I was but Cor didn’t.”

 

“Sure he did kid. We all knew the moment you stepped foot on on Lucis.”

 

“Then why...”

 

“The King gave us all orders. ‘No fighting unless someone is in danger.’ It’s a pretty good order if you ask me.”

 

“That kid’s the WHAT now?” Cor exclaims from the top of the stairs and looks back quickly at them.

 

“Heh. Guess he didn’t. Sorry kid. But hey, listen. I put my details in there so if you need anything, I’m just a push of a button away, okay? See you around, General.” The tour group was leaving and the Crownsguard and Glaives were retreating back inside.

 

Loqi was shaking in indignant rage. How dare he.

His childhood was spent listening to the legend of that man. All his life he wanted to catch up to him. Cor was the standard he measured himself up to. They even faced several times in the battlefield! How fucking dare he.

 

He went back to his hotel and checked out. He wasn’t staying a minute longer in the same city as that asshole if he could help it. On to that Salt place with the stupid name then.

 

...

 

This was the last time he was ever listening to Aranea.

 

None of the clothes he brought were suitable for this place. And so, his bags stayed packed in the luggage hidden in his villa. The owner, Aranea’s friend, was a blonde lady who looked suspiciously familiar and had a deceptively sweet smile. Loqi had arrived in the middle of the night, tired from his travels. He stumbled his way to the lobby, checked himself in through exhausted mumblings, signed papers through half closed eyes and had to be half-carried by the bellboy to his villa.

 

It was a nice, until the morning came.

 

This place should be renamed Ifrit’s armpits. Why the fuck was it so hot?

 

The Dead Sea, Goddess’ Tears, Salt Hell, Devil’s Asshole, whatever it was called, was located in between Ravatogh and the Vesperpool. It was H O T.

 

He spent the first day scouring the shops for appropriate clothes. Aranea wasn’t kidding when she said this was unlike home. Home was a friggin’ winter wonderland. This was hell. This was probably the Infernian’s toilet. That night he spent in the company of the finest bottles of booze. That was another good thing brought by the end of the war. The Booze. He could blame Aranea for introducing it to him. Drunken phonecalls were also not his thing, but here he was anyways. He blames Aranea for that too.

 

“Hello?”

 

“He didn’t even know who I was!” He wailed.

 

“Loqi? What the hell? Are you alright?”

 

“I’ve never felt so small or insignificant my whole life Ravus. How dare he do this to me!”

 

“Are you still- I thought you were done obsessing with that man.” Ravus yawns over the phone.

 

“Even King Regis knew who I was! That fucker, he didn’t! They all knew. I was so stupid.”

 

“King Regis huh? That man is an absolute troll you know...”

 

“I don’t give a shit boss. That Immortal twat totally refuses to acknowledge my existence. He thought I wanted an autograph! He gave me a souvenir! We have BLOODY PICTURES.” Loqi wailed some more.

 

Ravus sighs. This was gonna be a long night.

 

.....

 

And so here he was the next day, hungover and determined to throw the mini Cor into the Salt Pool of death. Down the path however, he sees two men wrestling on the ground.

 

_What the hell?_

 

“Chancellor?... Prince Noctis? What the fuck are you both doing here?”

 

The former Chancellor squints at him, one arm pushing Noctis’ face into the ground. “I know you.”  _Ah shit._

 

The dark haired Prince just glares at him from the sand, trying to push Ardyn off him. “Who the hell are you?”

_Fuck, not this again. Were all Insomnian monarchs such assholes?_

 

He cracks his kuckles.

 

“My name’s Loqi Tummelt, Brigadier General of the Niflheim army you shitty dickheads.”


End file.
